


Heavenly Soft

by Brynncognito



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Belly Kink, Biting, Bondage, Catharsis, Chubby Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crying, Explicit Consent, Grinding, Kissing, Light BDSM, Love Bites, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Neck Kissing, Other, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Rope Bondage, Self-Esteem Issues, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-05
Packaged: 2020-07-30 03:30:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20090551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brynncognito/pseuds/Brynncognito
Summary: Gabriel's comment about Aziraphale's pudge makes him become self-conscious, especially around Crowley, who's so lean and sinuous and gorgeous. Crowley decides to show Aziraphale just how much he likes his belly. Aziraphale is overcome with emotion (and other things).





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter isn't explicit, but later ones (which I've already written) will be.
> 
> Fair warning this could be a smidge triggering to folks with/recovering from eating disorders, body dysmorphia, etc. But I hope it will be cathartic as well.
> 
> Some more info about the consent stuff in the notes at the end.

Technically, Aziraphale didn’t  _ dislike _ his body. The very notion of it was ridiculous, honestly. Even if he did have a bit of an issue with it, his  _ body _ wasn’t him any more than… well, than his tartan collars and bowties and waistcoats, and all the lovely, comfortable little bits of fashion he decorated himself with.

All right,  _ fine _ , he supposed he had grown a bit fond of his corporation over the millennia, which made it all the more painful when Gabriel had admonished him over the padding he’d carefully cultivated over centuries of fine dining. He truly  _ was _ soft, in every sense of the word, and though he’d never had much of a problem with it before, after his encounter with Gabriel, he couldn’t help but fret.

Crowley noticed, because of  _ course _ he did. Half of what they  _ did _ together was eat-- or rather,  _ Aziraphale _ ate while Crowley watched, only occasionally taking a nibble himself. So when Aziraphale began to limit himself and pass on dessert, when he started pausing in front of mirrors and frowning as he ran his hands over the distinct curve of his belly hanging just slightly over his waistband, Crowley noticed. And it didn’t take him too long to comment, either.

“What’s all this about? You  _ love _ tiramasu,” Crowley exclaimed, sounding almost insulted that Aziraphale had declined to finish off his dessert, which he’d done with relish on truly countless other occasions over the years. Truthfully, Crowley only ever seemed to order dessert he knew Aziraphale would enjoy (and finish off). Aziraphale went a bit pink in the ears and demurred, muttering something about indulgences being bad for heavenly virtue, and though Crowley’d seemed skeptical, he’d finally relented.

And then, the Apocalypse happened, for a moment, before it  _ didn’t _ , and everything changed. It was one thing to pine for 6,000 years over your best friend and the love of your existence. It was quite another thing to think you might never get the chance to see them, touch them,  _ kiss _ them.

For a while, then, things were absolutely blissful. Aziraphale almost even managed to forget about that niggling worry in the back of his mind, that he was too  _ soft _ , too  _ lumpy _ , and certainly not possessing the sort of figure that properly paired with all the sharp lines and angles of Crowley’s slim figure.

They stumbled into carnal matters with surprise and delight before long, and it was  _ then _ that Aziraphale’s worries really reared their ugly head.

“C’mon, angel, lemme touch you,” Crowley was crooning most persuasively, grasping Aziraphale by the hips to tug him in close. Aziraphale relented, as he so often did, a soft smile on his face, until those lovely hands slipped around to his front, cupping the curve of his belly almost fondly, and he jerked back as if scalded. 

“Wha-- Aziraphale, what is it? What’s wrong?” Crowley truly did sound concerned as Aziraphale muttered apologies and excuses and  _ “Did I leave the kettle on? I think I hear it whistling” _ even though there was no such sound to be heard. He practically fled the room, mercifully missing the devastated look on Crowley’s face, as the demon wondered what in the Heaven he’d  _ done _ to scare his angel away like that, when things had been going  _ so well _ .

In true British fashion, Aziraphale later offered a particularly awkward apology over a cup of tea.

“Dreadfully sorry about that, old chap. I just-- well, touch of the nerves, I suppose you could say.” He flashed a quick, almost pained smile toward Crowley, who was brooding over his own steaming cuppa and looking utterly unconvinced. Silence settled between them for a time, though it was nothing like their  _ usual _ comfortably silent companionship, and Crowley finally set his cup down and rose to his feet. He approached cautiously, as much as one naturally prone to slinking and lurking could, and he very carefully plucked Aziraphale’s own mug from his fingers, which fluttered nervously but didn’t resist. Once the angel-winged mug was set down, Crowley removed his sunglasses and set them carefully beside it, gazing seriously into Aziraphale’s eyes as best he could while Aziraphale steadfastly tried to avoid eye contact.

“ _ Aziraphale. _ ” Though Aziraphale swallowed, hard, he finally managed to drag his eyes up to meet the solemn amber of Crowley’s distinctive (lovely) snake-like ones. Crowley’s expression softened, and he actually looked  _ worried _ now. “Please… just tell me what’s the matter. Whatever I’ve done, let me fix it…” And the thought that Crowley thought this was  _ his _ fault made Aziraphale’s heart crack, just a little. He gave a watery smile as he cupped Crowley’s cheek fondly, and the demon rested his hand over it, turning his head to press a kiss to his palm.

“It’s nothing you’ve done, my dear. Truly.” Though Crowley still looked worried, Aziraphale was sure he saw some of the tension ease out of his shoulders at the reassurance. But he didn’t stop looking at Aziraphale, quietly waiting for him to continue. Aziraphale sighed and looked away, feeling abruptly rather  _ foolish _ .

“It’s just, well… This body,” he admitted with what was almost a pout, flapping a hand vaguely and ineffectually in the direction of his  _ softness _ . “You’re… well,  _ you _ , and I’m, just…”

“Just what?” Crowley responded quietly, and very carefully.

“I’m  _ soft _ ,” Aziraphale exclaimed wretchedly, finally meeting Crowley’s gaze again. “I mean,  _ look at me _ . How could anyone, least of all  _ you _ , like a body like  _ this _ , when you’re all… all  _ bloody gorgeous _ and  _ sinful _ and  _ perfect _ .”

“ _ Perfect? _ ” Was that a bit of a squeak to Crowley’s retort? Certainly his voice shot up a good half an octave higher than usual, incredulous. He swiftly recovered, however.   


“ _ Angel.  _ Look at me,” Crowley demanded, cupping his angel’s cheeks in both hands to be sure he’d obey. Aziraphale did, reluctantly, his eyes still glimmering with tears which were thus far (miraculously) unshed.

“ _ You _ are  perfect . And whoever made you think  _ otherwise _ …” A low hiss escaped Crowley, and for an instant he actually looked  _ demonic _ , dangerous, at least until Aziraphale gave him another wobbly smile, his tears finally spilling over.

“That’s very sweet of you, dear. Truly, I can't thank you enough for how sweet you're being. But you don’t need to lie to me just to make me feel better.”

“Lie to--  _ Lie _ to you?” Crowley exclaimed, voice climbing at least an octave once more in his incredulity. “Angel, you are quite  _ literally _ the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen on this earth.”

“You… I'm... Oh,” Aziraphale managed softly, a bit awed and subdued by the ferocity behind Crowley’s declaration, bared teeth and all. But somewhere behind Aziraphale's response was still the slightest hint of uncertainty, and Crowley could see  it.

“Alright, c’mere. Up, up,” Crowley insisted, grasping Aziraphale by both hands to pull him to his feet, willing or not.

“What?  _ Why? _ Where are we going?” Aziraphale responded suspiciously, shuffling along just a little reluctantly, uncertainly.

“To the  _ bedroom _ , obviously,” Crowley tossed over his shoulder with a trademark eyeroll. Aziraphale frowned.

“But, darling, I’m really not sure I’m…” As he slowed, Crowley did as well, turning to face him and cupping his cheeks gently once more.

“Please, angel. Let me show you why you’re  _ wrong _ , and why those bloody self-righteous, knob end, wanker angel  _ cunts _ can go--”

“ _ Crowley! _ ” 

He subsided with what seemed to be monumental effort, jaw clenched, nostrils flaring, as he waited for Aziraphale to cave and agree to whatever it was he had planned. It didn't take long.

Aziraphale let out a quiet sigh and finally nodded, giving his love a tiny, cautious smile.

“All right. I trust you.” 

With a quirk of his lips and a hint of his usual swagger, Crowley led him into the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mildly dubious consent throughout the start of this fic is that Crowley kind of cajoles Aziraphale into letting him show him how much he appreciates/loves/enjoys his body. But if he didn't think Aziraphale secretly wanted/needed to give in, he wouldn't. (Kinda goes back to their canon dynamic of Crowley acting as the tempter so Aziraphale can "grudgingly" give in.)
> 
> ALSO, if you like this, please comment! I'm very much still working on this, and your love helps motivate me to keep chugging along.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley strips them both down, teases Aziraphale, and begins to make his intentions clearer. Aziraphale sulks and pouts a bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Similar warning regarding consent toward the end of this chapter. He's not as reluctant as he may seem, just putting on a show of being a grump.

Aziraphale was no less nervous once they were actually in the bedroom. Crowley’s lips quirked as if he found it somehow endearing that Aziraphale looked ready to crawl out of his skin, but somehow, the angel managed to perch himself quite gingerly on the edge of the bed all the same. Now, Crowley gifted him with a warmer, fonder smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling up. Crowley always insisted his gaze could never be anything but cold, impersonal, and reptilian, but Aziraphale fervently disagreed. Right now, in fact, his eyes were imploring Aziraphale to relax and trust him, just as he’d asked him verbally before tugging him off toward the bedroom. Aziraphale inhaled a bit shakily then finally relaxed slightly with a nod.

Crowley moved in closer, then, straddling Aziraphale and practically wrapping his body around him like the snake he still resembled, even in this form. Aziraphale smiled despite himself, his hands automatically moving to Crowley’s sharp-boned hips while he tried not to brood on how much more padded his own were.

“Enough of that,” Crowley murmured, leaning in and rubbing his nose affectionately against Aziraphale’s, before his lips ever-so-lightly brushed against his. “You’re thinking too much.” That was probably true of Aziraphale in a general sense on any given day, and he was being particularly fretful at the moment, which meant Crowley was right. So he tried, to the best of his ability, to relax and just _be_ in the moment. It wasn’t too difficult, with the way Crowley slid his hands up to tangle his fingers in Aziraphale’s almost white-blond hair, a low growl leaving him as he captured Aziraphale’s lips, this time hungrily. Aziraphale couldn’t help but whimper in response, his currently_ decidedly_ human anatomy reacting almost immediately to the particularly lustful demon in his lap. Crowley kept at it for what must have been several minutes, too, devouring Aziraphale’s lips like he was starved for him, his own arousal already smoldering if the hardness pressed against Aziraphale’s stomach was any indication. The reminder of said stomach prompted another twinge of regret, and it must have shown in the way he faltered slightly in their kiss, because Crowley paused and slowly withdrew. When his eyes opened, Crowley was gazing at him heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide just from a little bit of snogging (and, okay, yes, a bit of grinding against one another too). Aziraphale shivered despite himself, and Crowley’s lips quirked upward.

“It might help to have you undressed for this next bit,” Crowley remarked conversationally. He’d already started to strip himself leisurely, not vanishing his clothes in a flash as he could have done, likely to show just how much he looking to rush this, despite his evident arousal (and Aziraphale could have gazed upon the outline of Crowley’s hard cock in his dark cotton pants for _days_). But when Aziraphale moved to do the same, hesitantly, Crowley made a small noise and shook his head. “Nuh uh. I get to unwrap _this_ present myself,” he replied with a grin that made Aziraphale flush. He was sure he was far from a present, and it wasn’t as if it was Christmas or one of their birthdays (not that they truly had such a thing), or their anniversary or any such thin, anyway. But that didn’t seem to matter to Crowley. He was already stalking forward with every ounce of sensuous sway his hips could muster. Aziraphale stifled a whimper.

Crowley straddled him again, but this time there was a smug little smirk on his lips, and he was more focused on undressing him than on snogging him senseless. The flash bastard took his time with this, too, undoing Aziraphale’s bow tie and dropping it deliberately to the floor, despite Aziraphale’s protest. His jacket was the next to go, shrugged off easily enough, then Crowley took his time unfastening each of the buttons on his waistcoat. Aziraphale had always rather prided himself on being patient (it being a virtue and all), but he was already struggling not to  _ squirm _ . It didn’t help that Crowley had ducked his head down to sink his teeth into Aziraphale’s neck, drawing a startled, strangled cry from the angel’s lips as his hips jerked, making his erection rub against Crowley’s arse.

“Patience, angel,” Crowley cooed, as if he wasn’t the  _ least _ patient creature on the face of the earth when he was in anything resembling a similar situation. Aziraphale scowled, his face flushed, his whole body  _ hot _ and his cock aching, but he simply gripped the sheets tightly as Crowley worked on undressing him the rest of the way.

Finally, he was shirtless, and he gave a quiet  _ oof _ as Crowley shoved him onto his back. Crowley was gazing down at him both fondly and mischievously (and  _ really _ , that shouldn’t have been as intoxicating a combination as it was). 

“There, now just relax,” Crowley murmured, grinding his arse rather shamelessly against Aziraphale’s aching cock, the sensation enough to make him groan, even with the layers of fabric that yet separated them. He still did the best he could to obey, taking in a shaky breath and letting it out in a whoosh. Then, Crowley really made his move.

At first, it seemed he was doing his standard bit of teasing, sinking his teeth into the flesh near Aziraphale’s collarbone hard enough to make him shout and jerk his hips again, before delicately sucking a mark into his pale flesh there. Though he lingered for a bit on Aziraphale’s (delightfully, dreadfully) sensitive neck, he moved down to his chest next. Aziraphale hadn’t ever really even realized his nipples were sensitive until the first time he and Crowley made love. It had been a rather eye-opening experience. Presently, Crowley was nipping and lapping at said nipples, occasionally capturing them between his slightly-too-sharp front teeth to give them a caress with his clever, agile tongue. Aziraphale gave a full-body shudder, hips rolling again in seek of relief, but Crowley simply tsked as he pulled back.

“Now, now, angel. There’ll be time enough for that, later,” he promised. Even Aziraphale’s trademark  _ pout _ , perfected over the centuries (and frequently _devastating_ to Crowley), wouldn’t sway him. Still sulking a bit (as much as one could while  _ incredibly _ turned on), he gave up and simply offered himself up to Crowley, relaxing against the mattress. 

Crowley’s lips had finally moved on from his nipples and were brushing their way further downward, which almost  _ always _ ended in a blowjob (as Aziraphale’s cock so helpfully reminded him). But he was moving a bit slower now, and rather than following the soft trail of blond fuzz down to where it disappeared into Aziraphale’s trousers, he lingered on Aziraphale’s belly. With a hot flush of embarrassment (almost  _ humiliation _ ), Aziraphale realized what Crowley had intended.

“ _ Honestly _ , Crowley, I’m fine, this isn’t necessary--”

“ _ Shut it _ , angel,” Crowley growled, nipping at Aziraphale’s soft flesh in retaliation. “You are going to lie there, stop  _ whinging,  _ and enjoy yourself as I show you just how much I like your body just the way it is.”

Aziraphale scowled at that, but another nip of those dreadfully sharp teeth (not quite enough to draw blood, but certainly enough to leave a mark) quieted him the instant he opened his mouth.

  
“Fine,” he retorted, sullen. He’d lie there quietly, all right, but that didn’t mean he was going to  _ enjoy _ himself, contrary to what a  _ certain _ part of his anatomy claimed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale gets a bit overwhelmed, in more ways than one. Much more explicit conversation regarding consent.

It took precisely 36 seconds for Crowley to reduce Aziraphale to tears. Though he’d surely meant to produce _some_ sort of emotional reaction in Aziraphale, the sight of his angel weeping was enough to make him draw back, brows knit together in obvious concern.

“Angel?”

Aziraphale, for his part, could only cover his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking as he wept with humiliation, shame, relief, and sheer, unadulterated _love._ He flapped a hand at Crowley, a gesture which somehow managed to convey _"__Just a moment, please_._"_ The initial swell of emotion already receding, he managed to lower his hands just in time to see an almost _bereft_ Crowley.

“I didn’t-- I didn’t mean to… Angel, you could have said _no_,” Crowley began, clearly distraught to have caused him any sort of distress. Aziraphale shook his head adamantly, giving him a watery smile of encouragement and a squeeze to his hand, which still rested on the slight swell of Aziraphale’s belly, his pudge still evident even when he was lying down like this.

“That’s quite all right, my dear. It just… got to be a bit much for a moment. It… well, believe it or not, they weren’t _entirely_ bad tears.” Crowley looked unconvinced, but after taking in another deep (and only slightly shaky) breath, Aziraphale schooled his features into a more stern expression. “I mean it, Crowley. It’s… I think it’s all right now. I can’t promise I won’t squirm my way right off the mattress, but I hardly think I’m going to burst into tears again.”

At that last sentence, Crowley gave a thoughtful sound, a hint of mischief creeping back into the upward curve of his lips.

“...What _now_?” Aziraphale asked, fondly exasperated.

“_Well_… You might not squirm _entirely_ off the bed if you’re, say, _tied down_,” he replied casually (a bit too casually, which is how Aziraphale _knew_ he liked the idea quite a bit more than he was letting on). And though it would be a _lot_, being that helpless (at least on the surface, he could still miracle himself out of whatever bondage he needed to) while Crowley determinedly lavished affection on the part of himself about which he was most conflicted… Aziraphale thought that maybe, just possibly, _a lot_ might be what he needed to snap him out of his tetchy self-consciousness. So, after a moment’s thought, he finally nodded.

“All right.”

Crowley blinked, clearly not actually expecting him to acquiesce, at least not so easily.

“All right?” he echoed a bit cluelessly.

“Tie me down. Keep me from squirming off the bed while you do… whatever it is you’re going to do,” Aziraphale responded a bit tartly, making Crowley frown.

“You know we don’t have to, angel. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, and even if we  _ do _ , we can stop at any time--”

“Yes, yes, I know!” Aziraphale snapped, a bit flushed, though he was immediately embarrassed with himself. All of this just had him a little more on edge than usual. “Truly sorry, dear boy. I just… I know you would never do anything to me that I wasn’t okay with, but if we keep talking about this I’m bound to lose my nerve entirely, so can we just get on with it?” Though he was sure he still sounded irritable, there was a note of imploring there, too, he was certain.

Crowley relaxed a bit and nodded. With a snap of his fingers, a particularly lovely bit of rope manifested, crimson red and clearly  _ very _ well-made. Aziraphale’s breath picked up a notch, but he nodded, scooting his way further up the bed when Crowley nudged him that way. Crowley’s slender fingers wasted little time in winding the rope around each of Aziraphale’s wrists before tying them to the posts at the headboard, and Aziraphale was unsurprised (but still pleased) by the rope's luxurious softness. Once that was finished, Crowley shot him a questioning look, a jerk of his chin indicating the remaining length.

Aziraphale frowned, confused, before his expression cleared in realization. “Ah!” _Did_ he want to have his ankles bound, as well? After a moment’s hesitation, he finally gave a quick nod, and Crowley grinned.

Of course, Aziraphale couldn’t be left _clothed_ from the waist down, could he? Especially what with his ankles getting all tied to the bedposts. With a smirk and more than a few brushes of his lips against Aziraphale’s soft-padded belly, Crowley unfastened and unzipped his trousers, which were easy enough to get off since his braces had already been shrugged off his shoulders. Crowley positively _growled_ at the sight of Aziraphale’s cock and balls all gently cradled in his pants, clearly not minding that Aziraphale’s erection had abated somewhat during his emotional interlude. His teeth nipped at the sensitive flesh just above the elastic waistband, making Aziraphale whimper and twitch, fingers already tightening into hard fists around the rope which bound him to the headposts. And then, with a rapt expression in his eye, Crowley finally peeled them off as well.

All that accomplished, Crowley positively slunk back into position, his entire  _ deliciously _ lithe body rubbing up against Aziraphale’s once-more stiffening cock. He settled himself above Aziraphale with a fairly pleased look on his face, though he really hadn’t done  _ much _ yet. Aziraphale couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“You’re lovely,” Aziraphale murmured, almost unbidden, which made Crowley flush even though _he _ was the one presently tied down. 

“You’re such a  _ sap _ ,” Crowley groused, though Aziraphale was sure it was half-hearted at best, as he lowered his head a moment later to kiss him. 

Crowley kissing him was something Aziraphale was quite certain he would  _ never _ tire of, no matter how many years passed. He’d waited 6,000 years to do so, after all. Crowley kissing him while they were pressed flush against one another was something entirely,  _ wonderfully _ different. It was, for starters, much, _much_ better.

Kissing Crowley was like basking in the sun on a warm spring day. Kissing Crowley while naked, flushed with arousal, and helplessly supine beneath him was like standing before the full force of a supernova, hot and brilliant and utterly overwhelming as it washed over him. Aziraphale let out a sound halfway between a whine and a whimper, hips lifting as he tried (and failed) to wrap his legs around Crowley. The latter, of course, chuckled as if he realized precisely what Aziraphale was trying to do. Bound and helpless, Aziraphale could do little other than roll his hips in search of friction, his hard cock smearing precome over the soft blond fuzz on his belly in the process.

Finally, Aziraphale pulled away with a gasp, his body forgetting it didn’t quite  _ need _ the oxygen his lungs felt starved for. “Crowley  _ please _ ,” he managed to get out, his chest and belly heaving as he strained against the rope which bound him.

“Patience, angel,” Crowley cajoled in response, lips quirked up into a smile. Though Aziraphale’s prick was absolutely  _ aching _ to be touched, he mostly ignored it for the time being in favor of slithering on down Aziraphale’s body once more. Of course, this had the added effect of making his bare flesh drag against Aziraphale’s erection, making him groan throatily. Crowley chuckled quite mischievously at that, and though Aziraphale hoped that maybe now he might get to feel that sinuous forked tongue curled around his cock, Crowley clearly had something else in mind entirely.

His hands were back on Aziraphale’s belly, stroking it with undeniable fondness. Though Aziraphale was certain he’d gotten the crying over with already, tears still pricked at the corners of his eyes and a lump rose in his throat at the sheer  _ tenderness _ with which Crowley was caressing him.

“All right, angel?” Crowley asked quietly, his gaze intent upon his angel, undeniably wanting to make sure this really  _ was _ okay, that it wasn’t too much, that it was (secretly, deep down)  _ wanted _ . 

Though Aziraphale’s chest ached in a way that wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, he finally gave a nod. The smile which Crowley gifted him with in return was nearly blinding in its radiance.

“Excsssellent,” Crowley hissed. Aziraphale was certain he was only getting started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. That does it for all of what I already had written when I started publishing. Things might be a little more slow-going after this as a result. I'm thinking as of right now I've got maybe two-ish chapters left? As always, comments are loved.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The only summary I can think of for this chapter is to call it the "climax" of the story and snicker like a 12-year-old boy.

Crowley started with his mouth, lips brushing fondly over the slight swell of Aziraphale’s belly. He did so in an entirely unhurried manner, as if he could spend all day doing nothing more than pressing soft kisses to his angel’s belly. That was enough to make Aziraphale flush anew, and (interestingly), it was enough to make his cock give another twitch of interest where it currently lay, hard and neglected.

The kisses eventually gave way to gentle nips, Crowley’s too-sharp teeth catching his soft flesh in a way that made him gasp. That devilish forked tongue, meanwhile, slithered over his skin in their wake, soothing any irritation they may have caused. And all the while, Crowley's hands stroked and gently,  _ lovingly _ cradled his stomach.

The lump was back in Aziraphale’s throat, and he whined and tugged against his restraints, the hot flush of embarrassment swiftly overwhelming him at the tenderness Crowley displayed toward that particular part of his corporation.

_ “Crowley--” _ The strangled sound of his name leaving Aziraphale’s lips was enough to make Crowley pause, amber gaze flicking back up to Aziraphale’s face, checking in again, because he was so  _ good _ , so loving, so sweet to him-- “I love you,” Aziraphale blurted, which definitely wasn’t what he’d initially intended to say when he’d gasped out Crowley’s name, but he was greeted with another of his darling’s warm, fond smiles, complete with the crinkling at the corners of his eyes that Aziraphale was particularly fond of.

Plus, he took Aziraphale’s declaration as permission to keep going (which it was, however overwhelming this might be). Crowley let out a low, rumbling growl that Aziraphale could almost  _ feel _ in his cock, and he was abruptly startled to realize that Crowley was  _ aroused _ by his belly, by touching it, fondling it, laving attention upon it. His eyes widened, and his face flushed hotly once more.

_ "God--  _ ** _Satan_ ** , angel, do you have any bloody idea what you do to me?” Crowley hissed, giving a fierce nip to Aziraphale’s belly that made him cry out sharply, hips jerking.

Before his brain could entirely catch up with his mouth, Aziraphale was responding, “Why don’t you show me?” The instant he realized what he’d uttered, of course, he was chagrined at how very  _ forward _ he'd, but Crowley responded as if he’d tossed gasoline onto the flames of his arousal, practically snarling as he surged forward to capture Aziraphale’s lips in a truly ferocious kiss.

Aziraphale couldn’t help but groan, naturally, his hips rolling up against Crowley’s arse, which had quite helpfully settled itself directly atop his groin. And  _ Crowley’s _ cock was pressed right up against his stomach, causing some mixture of lust, love, and embarrassment to surge through him, flooding him with its intensity. Crowley ground quite deliberately against his belly, too, making it clear their current position was no accident.

When Crowley finally pulled back from their kiss, Aziraphale whined and tried to chase after his lips, which simply made Crowley chuckle.

“The things I want to do to you, angel… The things I  _ could  _ do, that I could spend  _ centuries _ doing and never be satisfied…”

Aziraphale’s breath caught in his throat at the fervent declaration, and he was left quite speechless as he gazed up at Crowley, who seemed equally overwhelmed, though perhaps in a different manner. Those gorgeous eyes of his were almost entirely eclipsed by his pupils, his face flushed and sweaty, and an almost frantic  _ adoration _ visible in his expression, as if he absolutely worshipped the ground that Aziraphale walked on. Aziraphale whimpered, while Crowley’s hands cradled his stomach again and the demon rolled his hips forward, his cock grinding into the softness of Aziraphale’s belly and smearing it shamelessly with precome.

“I could do this and nothing more for  _ years _ . You have no bloody idea what you do to me,” Crowley hissed, and Aziraphale managed a bit of a strangled laugh.

“I imagine, well, it’s a  _ bit _ like what you do to me,” he responded, voice slightly strained from arousal and  _ emotion _ and everything this moment was doing to him.

Crowley simply smiled, licked his lips, and gripped Aziraphale’s belly more firmly between his hands as he thrust against the softness there. His arse continued to grind against Aziraphale’s cock, not quite enough for him to get off, but it still felt absolutely  _ delightful _ , sinful.

_ “Crowley--” _ He was desperate now, cock aching and throbbing in time with his thrumming heart rate. 

“Do you want me to come like this, angel? Want me to ssshow you just how much I like your stomach?”

Aziraphale gave a strangled,  _ desperate _ sound of assent, which made Crowley chuckle once more. His thrusts sped up, and Aziraphale was torn between gazing upon the absolutely  _ obscene _ things that happened to his expression when he was close to coming or actually watching him thrust against Aziraphale’s belly.

In the end, his gaze darted desperately, conflictedly between both overwhelming sights, and he managed to lock eyes with Crowley the instant his mouth fell open and he  _ shouted _ his pleasure, spilling his load all over Aziraphale’s belly. Though he couldn’t follow Crowle over the edge (and oh, how he  _ desperately _ wanted to), Aziraphale gave a shudder of arousal all the same. Crowley’s hips juddered with the aftershocks of his climax, the remainder of his release absolutely coating Aziraphale’s belly. If he weren’t so aroused, he would have found it  _ disgustingly _ messy (and even so, it was a near thing). 

Crowley finally slumped, breathing heavily, though he only took a second or two to recover before he was ducking his head down to lap up the mess he’d left on Aziraphale’s stomach. It wasn’t the first time Crowley had done such a thing, clearly enjoying the taste of his own release almost as much as Aziraphale’s, but it never failed to make him flush. And right now, with his cock still leaking precome and  _ aching _ to be touched, it was almost too much.

“Crowley,  _ please _ \--” The absolute  _ bastard _ of a serpent simply shushed him, however, taking his sweet time licking Aziraphale’s belly clean. Then, and only then, did he finally swallow Aziraphale's cock down. He took him to the root in a single go, that wicked serpentine tongue curling around him, and Aziraphale  _ shouted _ at the sudden tight, wet heat which abruptly engulfed him. He longed to tangle his fingers in Crowley’s auburn hair, force Crowley to take him all the way. Instead, all he could do was thrust up into Crowley’s mouth, while Crowley’s hands gripped his hips tight in encouragement.

It took almost no time at all for Aziraphale to tip over the edge,  gasping  a strangled cry of unadulterated pleasure in the vague shape of Crowley's name. A hot white burst of ethereal light flooded the room, blinding in intensity, finally flickering out as Aziraphale slumped with a groan, his heart hammering away against his ribcage. Crowley seemed to have no problem swallowing every drop of his come down, milking him dry, before pulling off with a wet pop and an utterly smug grin. Aziraphale couldn’t help but give another shudder, somewhere between an aftershock and rekindling arousal at the sight of that grin, Crowley’s lips all filthily red and spit-slick.

“You are… an absolute  _ menace _ ,” Aziraphale managed, still breathing heavily, still warm and tingling and buzzed with endorphins. Crowley practically purred as he slid his way back up Aziraphale’s body, vanishing the rope with an idle wave of his hand. Aziraphale gladly wound his arms around his love the moment he was able,  _ hmphing _ even as he pressed a kiss to the top of Crowley’s head. But he had to admit he felt… not quite  _ over _ his self-consciousness, because even  _ Crowley’s _ cock wasn’t that magical, but at least  _ better _ . He even managed a hint of a smile when Crowley cradled his belly with one hand, pressing flush against him. They could probably go another round or ten if they  _ really _ wanted to, but for now, this was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of you who read and commented and cheered me on as I published this. It's the first time I've written/published a WIP story in this way, and I kinda like it.
> 
> Next stop, possibly feeding kink...

**Author's Note:**

> The mildly dubious consent throughout the start of this fic is that Crowley kind of cajoles Aziraphale into letting him show him how much he appreciates/loves/enjoys his body. But if he didn't think Aziraphale secretly wanted/needed to give in, he wouldn't. (Kinda goes back to their canon dynamic of Crowley acting as the tempter so Aziraphale can "grudgingly" give in.)
> 
> ALSO, if you like this, please comment! I'm very much still working on this, and your love helps motivate me to keep chugging along.


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